


Asylum- Part 1

by queenofdeansbooty



Series: Spn Series Rewrite- Season 1 [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Language, F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 19:45:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15080378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdeansbooty/pseuds/queenofdeansbooty
Summary: John Winchester led you and his kids on a case and you hope to see him there. This search for him has been deadbeat… Until now.





	Asylum- Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. This is part one of season 1 episode 10. Feedback is appreciated. Requests are always welcomed.

Some say that the worst part of not knowing something was the fear of finding out you were right. That was your fear with the letter from your mom. A lot has happened on the last hunt with Mary and your mom and the house you grew up in and you managed not to completely break down.

There was still so many questions that you didn’t know your mother knew the answer to. You were scared of finding out that you did absolutely everything you could and your mother still died. John was still missing and his kids were going crazy. They’ve had enough and decided to actively search from him instead of following his cryptic messages.

You and the brothers were held up in some motel in some state. Sam was on the phone, talking to other hunters while Dean was reading through his dad’s journal to see if he could find anything. You, on the other hand, were pacing the room, biting your lip.

“Sweetheart, if you keep doing that, you’re going to give  _me_  a headache,” Dean said without looking up from the book.

“Sorry, Dean. I have a missing dad and a letter from my dead mother. I am not doing okay right now.” You said, going back to biting your lip.

“Hey, look at me,” You stopped pacing and looked at Dean with worried eyes. “We’ll get through this. You read that letter when you’re ready and when you do, I will be right here to take care of you.”

“Thanks, Dean.” You said with a small smile, taking a deep breath.

“Sammy, did you find anything?” Dean asked, shifting his attention from you to his brother.

“Nope. Caleb, Jefferson and Pastor Jim haven’t heard from him. What about the journal? You find anything in there?”

“No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out…. I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frigging Yoda.” Dean complained.

“I remember when you wrote like that. Same with you, Sam. Just be glad your handwriting got a lot better than his over the years.” You joked. You bit your lip when you saw that neither brother was in the mood for joking. You tried lifting the tension in the air but it didn’t seem to work.

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds and file a missing persons,” Sam suggested, sighing deeply.

“We’ve talked about this. Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail.” Dean shook his head.

“I don’t care anymore,” Sam said. Dean’s phone started ringing and he got up, going to look for it but Sam wasn’t done. “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean… he should’ve been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and… nothing.”

“Where the hell is my cellphone?” Dean growled out, searching his things.

“You know, he could be dead for all we know,” Sam said suddenly. You gasped and looked at him with a glare.

“Sam! Don’t even say that!” You scoffed.

“He’s not dead! He’s – he’s…” Dean tried coming up with a good explanation as to why his father was missing.

“He’s what? He’s hiding? He’s busy?” Sam shook his head. Dean finally found his phone and opened it up, gasping at what he read. You got up and walked over to him, looking over his shoulder to read what it said.

_42, -89_

What the hell was that and who was it from?

“Huh. I don’t believe it,” Dean said with a small smile. He looked at his brother and held up his phone. “It’s, uh…. it’s a text message. It’s coordinates.” Dean put his phone down and walked to Sam’s laptop, powering it on and immediately searching the coordinates he got.

“You think Dad was texting you?” Sam asked. You knew Dean didn’t say it but you could tell he thought it was from his dad.

“He _has_ sent you guys coordinates before.” You shrugged, sitting next to Dean.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Y/N.” Sam sighed.

“Sam, it’s good news! It means he’s okay, or alive at least.” Dean said, not looking up from the computer.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam wondered.

“No, it said unknown.” You answered for Dean.

“Well, where do the coordinates point?”

“Rockford, Illinois. I checked the local Rockford paper. Look at this.” Dean said, showing you the laptop.

“This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, and blows his brains out. Earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.” You summarized the article.  

“Okay, I’m not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asked.

“Dad booked marked that same asylum in his journal. There were seven unconfirmed sightings and two deaths until, well, last week. I think this is where he wants us to go.” Dean smiled, looking at his brother.

“This is a job… Dad wants us to work a job.” Sam snorted.

“Well, maybe we’ll meet up with him? Maybe he’s there?” Dean said with hope.

“I don’t know that he will. If he wasn’t there for your mom, why do you think he’ll be there for you?” You said gently, not wanting to crush him. Dean nodded and sighed, putting the journal down.

“Who cares! If he wants us there, it’s good enough for me!” Dean raised his voice, standing up and filling his duffel with his things.

“This doesn’t strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam asked, watching his brother, not making a move to pack.

“Sam! Dad’s telling us to go somewhere, we’re going.” Dean said, leaving no more room for discussion. You looked at Sam who gave his brother the classic bitch face. You shrugged apologetically, getting up to pack. You knew it was best to not argue with Dean. You picked up the letter and the key, putting it in your jacket pocket and putting the jacket on. It was time to hit the road again.

* * *

“Dean, don’t hassle the man, he just lost his partner.” You said as you entered the bar that the cop was at. The cop who was at the asylum the night that Kelley went crazy.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I know what I’m doing.” Dean walked over to a man who looked really sad and sat down in front of him. You sighed softly and took a seat, smiling gently at the man.

“You’re Daniel Gunderson. You’re a cop, right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.” Gunderson nodded.

“I’m uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?” You bit your lip and looked at the man.

“Yeah, I do. I’m just trying to have a beer here.” Gunderson sighed.

“Dean, let’s go.” You whispered so that only Dean could hear you but he wasn’t listening.

“That’s okay, I swear it won’t take that long. I just want to get the story in your words.” Dean pushed Gunderson to talk.

“A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he’s dead. You going to ambush me here?” The tone in the cop’s voice was angry, hurt, and sad all at the same time. This wasn’t a good idea.

“Let’s go,” You tugged on Dean’s jacket and looked at the man. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“Sorry. But I need to know what happened.” Dean ignored you, still talking to the cop. You didn’t know what would happen next but then you saw Sam coming around the corner and roughly pushed Dean out of the way. You gasped loudly and covered your mouth, watching as the scene unfolded. What the hell were they doing?

“Hey buddy, why don’t you leave the poor guy alone! The man’s an officer! Why don’t you show a little respect!” Sam glared at his brother. Dean didn’t say anything but walk out of the bar. You groaned slightly, giving Sam a look before chasing after Dean. When you walked outside, you saw him smirking, leaning against his car.

“You mind telling me what the hell happened in there?”

“Sorry, Y/N, but we needed you to act as normal as possible and you did. Good cop, bad cop, sort of thing.” Dean explained.

“Of course you would be the bad cop.” You chuckled, leaning right next to him, shoving your hands inside your pockets.

“You know me, I don’t do chick-flick moments.”

“Yeah right,” You laughed. “We both know that’s not true.” You looked up at him but your smile faltered and you looked down.

“What is it?”

“I keep thinking about this thing,” You pulled out the car key from your pocket. “It’s a car key but which car does it belong to and why? I think I should throw it away.” You shrugged.

“Why don’t you?” He pointed to a trash can that wasn’t even 20 feet from you.

“I feel like it’s important somehow.”

“But you won’t know unless you read the letter.” Dean nodded.

“I know, Dean, I will read the letter. Maybe I will today but I’m still thinking about it.” You sighed softly, putting the key away.

“Well, what I do know is that key belongs to a great car.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that key is like mine.” You looked up at him and grinned.

“My car is going to be more badass than yours.” You smirked.

“Yeah, you wish, princess.” Dean chuckled. The door to the bar opened and Sam walked out.

“Shoved me kind of hard in there, buddy boy,” Dean said, getting off his car and going to the driver’s side. Of course, Sam had to ruin the moment between the two of you.

“I had to sell it, didn’t I? It’s method acting.” Sam said. Dean looked confused for a second but shrugged it off, opening the door to the car.

“What’d you find out from Gunderson?” Dean asked, getting into the car. You got in the backseat, taking your usual place while Sam did the same.

“Walter Kelly was a great cop. He was head of his class and had a bright future ahead of him. He and his wife may have had fights but, like everybody, he was normal. He and his wife were even talking about having kids.” Sam informed.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him,” Dean said.

“Right.” Sam nodded.

“What’d Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” You asked, looking at Sam.

“A lot.” Sam chuckled.

“Great, I’ve always wanted to spend my time in a haunted asylum.” You said sarcastically, Dean putting the car to drive and drove off to where he knew the Asylum was located. When you got there, you looked at the place. It had a creepy setting to it and you didn’t like it at all. But you would take creepy asylum over biblical bugs any day of the week.

You got out of the car, seeing that there was a very tall fence surrounding the place and you sighed. You knew you would have to climb it and Dean and Sam were way ahead of you. You watched as they effortlessly climbed the fence, dropping down on the other side of it. You bit your lip, seeing Dean’s stomach peek out for a bit.

“Sweetheart, you coming or do you want to wait in the car?” Dean grinned, both boys looking at you.

“I’m coming.” You rolled your eyes and climbed up the fence, swinging over the top and dropping down on the ground. At least this time, you didn’t hurt your ankles. You followed Dean and Sam up the steps and walked into the Asylum.


End file.
